Happy Holidays
by JMackenzie
Summary: Can Kirk and the crew get Spock in to the Christmas spirit? Reviews appreciated. final chapter is up! Complete.
1. Chapter 1

Happy Holidays

Chapter One

The song blaring from the rec room paused Spock's deliberate steps, and against his better judgement he edged in to the room, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Unfortunately the good doctor made that impossible as he rushed enthusiastically to the vulcan, his hands cradling a few glass ornaments of which Spock had grown familiar with from his association with humans. "Well, Spock, come to join the party, have you?" Dr. McCoy guessed cheerfully.

"Indeed I have not," Spock corrected, "may I inquire the reason of this occasion for celebration?"

The doctor gaped at him, and Spock almost hoped he had caused permanent muteness, but his hopes were quickly dashed by McCoy's reply. "It's the holiday season, Spock."

Spock's questioning look succeeded in disgusting the doctor. He was being deliberately obtuse, something he was fully aware irritated McCoy. "what holiday is impending?"

Feeling this didn't deserve a response Dr. McCoy strode back to a pine tree that stood to one side of the room, surrounded by several laughing smiling humans. "Anoying computer." mumbled McCoy, casting Spock a dark look.

"What was that, bones?" Kirk asked pleasantly, fixing an ornament to a branch.

"It's Spock, Jim," McCoy informed him, "need I say more?"

Kirk glanced over to his first officer who was beating a hasty retreat to the door, a task made more difficult by the people streaming through it, eager to take part in the festivities. Kirk quickly moved to his side and Spock turned to greet him. "Leaving so soon, Spock?" Kirk asked jovially.

"I see no need to remain, captain." came Spock's voice.

The music suddenly increased in volume, the beat quickening in to a cacophany of drums, horns and off-key voices. "--silver bells, silver bells, it's Christmas time in the city--"

"Come on, Spock, enjoy the season."

They had to shout to be heard over the din of music and lively conversation. "I wasn't aware there was a season to enjoy, captain. In space there are no seasons."

"I'm not talking about the change in weather that causes different seasons, Spock, I'm referring to a time of year when people feel goodwill towards other beings, and wish them well in the coming year."

Up rose Spock's brow, an indication the discussion wouldn't be put to rest. :I fail to understand why humans must require a specific time to behave civilly towards others, captain, when good intentions should be held for others everyday."

Kirk had no ready reply to this observation but McCoy who had joined them made his exasperation known. "I suppose vulcans don't celebrate feelings of goodwill."

"We do not, doctor," Spock said, "we feel good behavior is an expectation, not something to be enjoyed at a particular time of year."

McCoy's face flushed crimson, a sign he was near to shouting. Kirk quickly redirected the conversation. "It's not just a time to share good wishes, Spock. It's also a time of happiness in which we exchange gifts and participate in other fun activities."

Nurse Chapel took that opportunity to hurry over, smiling at spock, her eyes alight with the barely concealed emotions she held for him. 'have you come to help decorate the tree, Spock?"

McCoy whirled on her. "Oh, haven't you heard, Christine?" he huffed, "our vulcan is above such frivolities."

"Doctor, please refrain from speaking for me."

Then turning to Chapel he said, "I received no invitation to participate in the festivities."

Her eyes widened in surprise. Of course Spock wouldn't understand that an invitation wasn't necessary. He would naturally assume that the gathering was for only those who had been selected. Before she could extend an invitation however, the doctor jumped in. "This isn't an official function, Spock. You don't need to be invited, you just need to participate."

Kirk and Chapel nodded their ascent but it was still obvious Spock felt uncomfortable at barging in on something which was so alien to him. His mother had celebrated Christmas each year with a collection of human friends and Spock had joined her until he'd made the decision of becoming completely vulcan, and vulcans didn't celebrate such boisterous and emotionallly charged occasions. He had all but forgotten the reasons for the holiday and the activities that went on. Seeing his discomfort, Kirk cast him a reassuring smile and gestured to the tree. "It's not hard to decorate, Spock," he explained, "you just hang ornaments on the branches."

He relieved McCoy of one of his ornaments and demonstrated the metal hook by which it could dangle. "The difficulty of the task is not in question, captain." Spock observed.

"That's right, Jim," McCoy chimed in, "this is much too easy for Spock. It's most likely too demeaning for him."

"You are once again hoisting opinions on me that I have not voiced, doctor," Spock reminded, then turning to Kirk, "if my assistance is needed, I will help."

A slight frown shadowed Kirk's face. "Spock, i'm not ordering you to do anything you don't want to do. I just thought you might find decorating a tree interesting."

Seeing the officers grouped near the door, Uhura moved over to them. "Are you all going to stand around while the tree is being decorated?" she asked.

"We're not standing around, Uhura," McCoy explained, "we're trying to persuade this stubborn, green-blooded vulcan to help decorate the tree."

Uhura smiled encouragingly at Spock. "Don't you want to get in to the Christmas spirit, Spock? Everyone else is."

"Spock isn't known for following the crowd," McCoy pointed out, "we humans are too illogical for him to want to involve himself in our petty goings-on."

Ignoring the doctor's remarks, Spock directed his answer to Uhura. "I do not see the purpose in festooning a conifer with circular glass bulbs and flashing colored lights. It is a drain on the ship's resources and takes up space that could otherwise be employed in more functional means."

The doctor looked as though he would explode at any moment, and Kirk tried hard to conceal his amusement. "Now, Spock," Uhura chided gently, "don't be a scrooge. It's all in fun."

Spock's brow inched up even further. "Why are you comparing me to a fictional character in a tarren play?" he asked in bewilderment. "I am only stating the facts so that everyone can be well informed of the needless energey that is being wasted."

"Maybe we like wasting energy." McCoy challenged.

For once Kirk agreed with the doctor. "Come on, Spock, don't be a stick in the mud. Any drain on the ship will be replentished once we reach starbase ten."

"Captain," Spock said, "I am not a piece of wood, nor am I mired in mud."

McCoy gazed heavenward as if praying for patience and Chapel motioned to the tree. "I won't take no for an answer, Spock," she stated firmly, gesturing him to the tree and pushing a few ornaments in to his hands.

For a moment he seemed stunned at the instantaneous way he had been thrust in to this situation, then with great care he hung a red bulb on the nearest branch. "That's it, Spock," Kirk praised enthusiastically, hanging his own ornaments, then motioning to a few branches that were out of his reach continued, "hang a few up on those branches. You're the only one who can reach them."

Spock dutifully obeyed, placing green and glittering ornaments precisely, as though they were delicate objects in an experiment.

The quintette was distracted some minutes later by two other decorators on the other side of the tree arguing goodnaturedly. "I tell you, dey originated in Russia."

"You expect me to believe that?" scoffed the other person.

"Of course," said the first innocently.

They moved around the tree to get more decorations and Spock could see that it was Sulu and Chekov, the two people he had expected. "Dey have been grown in Russia for centuries. How do you think dey arrived in other parts of de vorld?"

"I think the Christmas tree came from Germany." Sulu pointed out.

"No," Chekov said, "I am sorry to say dat you have been voefully misinformed, Hikaru. My papa told me stories of how de first Russians chopped down trees in de forest den took dem home vit a horse-drawn sleigh. Infact ve still cary on de tradition to diss day."

"Yeah well, Pavel, sorry if I don't believe you. I still think they came from Germany."

"Dose germans stole our tradition and took credit for it." Chekov insisted.

"Gentleman," Spock interrupted, even though he had no desire to become embroiled in their quarrel, neither could he stand by and allow misconceptions to be bandied about so casually, "Sulu is quite correct. The Christmas tree did indeed originate in Germany, where it then gained popularity in other parts of Europe before the people migrating to the United States continued the custom there."

"What did I tell you, Pavel!" Sulu chortled, "I was right!"

Chekov shook his head mournfully, as though feeling sorry for the poor uneducated people surrounding him before disappearing behind the tree with his ornaments. Grinning, Sulu rejoined his friend. "Well, you nipped that argument in the bud." McCoy said, reaching across Spock to place his ornament.

"I was simply clarifying a misconception, doctor," Spock said, "and if you need access to this area of the tree, I will move so you will have no need to crowd me."

McCoy opened his mouth to protest but was diverted by the group of singers that appeared at the front of the room, garbed in parkas, scarves and mittens, Uhura leading them in a lively rendition of "Rocking Around the Christmas Tree". "--what a bright time, it's the right time to rock the night away--"

Spock looked questioningly at Kirk and McCoy. "Why are they atired in outdoor apparel suited for winter climates?"

"That's a good question, Spock." Kirk said, looking equally as bewildered.

The group concluded the song followed by vigorous applause, then McCoy called out, "What's with the ski suits?"

Grinning broadly Uhura waved expansively at the group around her. "It's customary on Earth and their colonies to get all bundled up and go caroling, and since the climate is for the most part, cold at Christmas time, they have to wear warm clothing. They stop at houses to sing for people, then gather in one location afterwards to drink warm cider. Since we're not on Earth, I thought it might be fun to at least dress the part of carrolers, even if it's plenty warm. It makes things more festive."

"Here here!" Sulu called.

"Well let's hear another song." Kirk requested.

The singers cheerfully obeyed, "--deck the halls with boughs of holly, fah-lah-lah-lah-lah,-lah-lah-lah-lah--"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The thrum of the ships' engine was the only constant that intruded upon the sleepy silence of the bridge, most of the low ranking officers lulled by the monotony of nonactivity. Sulu however was bored, and being on the night shift didn't provide much of an outlet for his energy. Conversation on the bridge had all but ground to a hault two hours ago, and the only person still alert was a vulcan communications officer, and when Sulu attempted to draw her in to conversation she had answered with monosylables that hardly provided a distraction to the restlessness building in him. He glanced over at Chekov who was slumped in his chair, his eyes half closed, and Sulu wondered if he'd succumbed to sleep. "Ensign Chekov!" Sulu barked in a fair imitation of Kirk's commanding tone.

Chekov jerked to a sitting position, then hastily stumbled to his feet. "Vat? Yes sir?"

Sulu's full booming laugh permeated the bridge and the comunications officer shot him a stern glance which he pointedly ignored. "Hikaru," Chekov sighed, sinking in to his chair, "datvas not funny."

"Sure it was," came Sulu's immediate response, "you should've seen the look on your face."

Mumbling what were undoubtedly complaints in Russian, Chekov turned back to his empty view screen, but Sulu was too amused to allow the prank to be passed over so quickly. "Did you really think I was the captain?"

"Of course I did," Chekov grouched, "vy do you think I reacted like dat? You don't think you vould have got dat kind of response, do you?"

Ignoring Chekov's grumbling he said, "Do you think Spock will come to the Christmas party Uhura is planning?"

Chekov gave a negative shake of the head. "He doesn't like parties. He didn't even vant to stay for de decoration of de tree."

"Yes, but he did stay." Sulu observed.

"Only because de keptain vanted him to. Maybe de keptain vill order him to come to de party."

"He can't order people to go to parties unless they're manditory for a diplomatic mission." Sulu pointed out.

"Den he'll stay in his quarters until all us illogical humans have finished celebrating." Chekov said. "Either dat, or he'll lock himself in a science lab."

Sulu appeared thoughtful. "I wonder if we could get Spock in a celebratory mood."

Chekov lowered his voice so the communications officer wouldn't hear. "Wulcans don't get in moods, much less celebratory ones."

"Yes, but he can't be alone for Christmas, that's just wrong."

"Vell, how do you propose to get him in de Christmas spirit?" Chekov wanted to know.

"I'm not rightly sure," Sulu mused, "maybe we could get him a gift."

"Yeah right," Chekov scoffed, "you don't think dat vould really vork, do you? He'd most likely ask vat de logic is in giving him gifts ven he doesn't observe de holidays."

Sulu sighed. Spock would never refuse a gift, but he would question the giver as to their motives, and if their reasons weren't logical he would accept the gift graciously, and one could almost see the bewilderment in his expression. No, a gift wouldn't do. It would have to be something that involved Spock directly, and Sulu thought he knew what to do. He explained his idea to Chekov who looked so shocked and immediately protested. "Have you taken leave of your senses, Hikaru? There's no vay to pull it off, and even if there vas, ve'd most likely get caught."

"Not if we're careful," Sulu insisted enthusiastically, "we'll do it at a time when he least expects it, sometime when he won't be there."

Chekov sighed, he would be pulled in to this scheme whether he wanted to help or not. After all, Sulu needed an accomplice, didn't he?

"Ve could sneak in ven he's sleeping." Chekov suggested.

"Are you kidding?" Sulu exclaimed, "he'd hear us as soon as we stepped through the door, then how would we explain our presence?"

"Ve could say ve're having a problem vith de computers and need to look at his." Chekov tried hopefully.

But Sulu was shaking his head even before Chekov had finished."That would look too suspicious. He'd want to know why we hadn't apprised him of the situation so he could help with the repairs. No, there has to be another way."

Chekov looked gloomy. "There is no other vay."

They were discussing the dilemma over breakfast and so far had come up empty. Sulu's food went untouched as he mulled over the problem, but by the time Chekov had finished his waffles and orange juice he still hadn't thought of anything. Admitting defeat for the moment, Sulu made his way to his quarters, hoping inspiration might come before they ran out of time.

The crash sounded magnified in the silence of the ships' night, and with most crew members sleeping, they ran the risk of rousing others who would ask uncomfortable questions, questions they weren't prepared to answer. After waiting several agonizing seconds, and when no one emerged from their quarters, Chekov moved with caughtious steps to the door, Sulu impatiently waiting. "What happened, Pavel?" he demanded in a whisper.

"I tripped and dropped de ornaments." Chekov said, irritated that Sulu had to ask.

The dim illumination that lit the coridors lent itself to shadows and vague outlines and little else. Squinting, Sulu peered in to the box Chekov held. Several glittering bulbs were crowded in with other decorations, and by their delicate old-style earth appearance, Sulu could see they were antiques. Having no desire to linger outside the first officers' quarters where people might spot them, Chekov overrode the security code with a little handheld device he had purchased on a shore leave two years ago, and they slipped inside, and only when the doors hissed shut did Sulu dare to speak. "Where did you find those ornaments, Pavel?"

Chekov grinned like a satisfied child who has just accomplished a task and pulled out one of the bulbs with an elaborate flourish. "Dey are from Russia," he proclaimed, "my mama and papa gave dem to me ven I vas a little boy. Dey vanted me to appreciate my heritage, and since dese ornaments have been passed down through generations of our family, dey thought dis vould be a good vay to promote dat desire. Ven I joined Starfleet I brought dem along vith me so I vould have some vay to celebrate de holidays and enjoy a bit of home in de process."

Sulu was quite touched by this narative, but not knowing how to express it, he set his own box on the floor. "So you've brought the decorations, and I've brought the tree and lights."

The tree was not the artificial ones that were sold in shops all over the federation, but a genuine live fir tree that flooded the room with the familiar smell of pine as Sulu carefully lifted it from the box. It was a miniature of the full-sized tree, and would do nicely for their purposes. "Vere did you get dat?" Chekov asked, impressed.

Now it was Sulu's turn to grin. 'I've been growing it in the arboretum. I like their fragrance, and it was rather fun to watch it grow."

Chekov began gathering decorations. "Ve'd better hurry before he comes back."

Agreeing wholeheartedly with this warning they set to the task of adorning Spock's quarters with shiny red and green bulbs, weaving garland around the room and displaying the tree on a small table that had previously been filled with data pads. Footsteps outside froze them where they stood, chekov reaching up to place the star on the top most branch, and Sulu poised to activate the Christmas lights. There would be no way to explain why they were in Spock's private quarters, caught in the act of holiday decorating. The footsteps paused outside the door for a moment then moved on, and releasing sighs of relief, they finished quickly and exited Spock's quarters. "Vat do you think he'll do once he discovers vat ve have done?" Chekov asked anxiously.

Sulu chuckled. "I don't know, but we won't claim responsibility unless it's absolutely necesary."

Chekov only hoped it wouldn't come to that.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

A-N: I would like to thank Silver Chipmunk for her helping me divide the chapters of this story properly. I don't own Star Trek or anything affiliated with it.

As soon as he ran a diagnostic on the computer, Spock knew something was wrong. The diagnostic was unable to differentiate between whether it had been tampered with, or if it had been infected by a virus. Systems were effected shipwide, and Spock couldn't pinpoint the problem until he understood what had caused it. If someone had tampered with the computer, it could mean sabotage was at work. Or perhaps some irresponsible crew members had decided to play a practical joke, but since senseless vandalism for amusement was something Spock couldn't comprehend, he was not impressed. If a virus had indeed infiltrated the system, the damage would be more difficult to repair, and finding the culprit would prove even more so.

He had been alerted to the problem as he was just coming off the day shift, and hearing a crewman mumbling angrily at his terminal had moved over to investigate, which was when he had noticed the jibberish scrolling across the screen that had once been legible words. Needless to say his fruitless search for the possible malfunctions had kept him from his customary off duty pursuits and he'd gone from the bridge to several science labs attempting to track down the reasons for the glitches.

Thinking a hot bowl of plomeek soup might revive him and give him energy to tackle the problem, he made his way to his quarters. Slipping inside, expecting a brief reprieve, what he encountered was a malestrom of Christmas chaos! There was a flash of illogic when he thought he might have unintentionally gone in to the wrong quarters, but beneath the gaudy bright-colored decorations, were the familiar overtones of his furniture and prized possessions. Stepping carefully around the room he inspected the damage inflicted upon his private sanctuary. It was nothing that couldn't be easily rectified, but at the moment, curiosity won out over the desire to right the rooms to their proper state. Who could have done this? Several possible suspects flitted through his mind in the time it took him to locate his chair, which unfortunately hadn't avoided the festive garnishings. Dr. McCoy was at the top of the list. He would certainly find it amusing to throw Spock in to the Christmas spirit by forcing him to confront it directly. He was also aware Uhura was organizing a celebration for the eve before the official holiday. Might she have done this to persuade him to attend? Nurse Chapel was also a possibility. Her feelings towards him had prompted her on more than one occasion to perform unasked acts of kindness for him, the time she had tried to offer him plomeek soup during the onset of his pon far, the shore leave she had insisted she needed him to accompany her to a white sandy beach where she had arranged lunch with all his favorite foods, and the time she requested his presence in sick bay due to a malfunctioning medical device, and instead he had encountered a decorated room as people sprang from various hiding places to wish him a happy birthday. Sulu with his enthusiasm, and desire to share happiness whenever the situation presented itself, could also have planned this. And Chekov was just young and impressionable enough to be reeled in to going along with him. Mr. Scott was much too involved with his engines to tangle himself in a prank, and yoeman Rand was too timid to attempt such drastic measures. Captain Kirk would never hoist a human custom upon him in such a flamboyant manner, perhaps he could assist Spock in solving the mystery.

Recalling his original reason for returning to his quarters, he ordered some plomeek soup from his garland strewned replicator, then removing a figure of a human clad in red clothing, wearing bells and carrying a large pack from his table, he sat down to eat. He paused with a spoonful of soup halfway to his mouth as a thought struck him. Were the decorating of his quarters and the malfunctioning computer connected in some way? His desire to track down the culprit, or culprits of this prank, and to solve the mystery of the computer, spurred him in to action. The captain's bleary-eyed gaze passed over Spock questioningly as Spock apologized for rousing him in the middle of his rest period. "I would not have done so had I not thought it necessary, jim." Spock said.

"Oh, I know that, Spock," came Kirk's cheerful explanation, "what's this all about?"

Spock went on to recount the trouble he'd been having with the computer, then the vandalism to his quarters. Mingled amusement and concern played across Kirk's face. "You can't pinpoint the reason for the malfunctions, Spock?"

"Unfortunately not at this time, captain. However, I suspect it might be connected with the person or people involved in festooning my quarters with decorations. I believe the malfunctioning computer and the invasion of my quarters took place at nearly the same time."

"How do you come to that conclusion?" Kirk asked.

"Due to the trouble with the computers, I was unable to take my regular off duty period and haven't returned to my quarters until 5.3 minutes ago."

Kirk thought a moment. "Dr. McCoy had lunch with us in your quarters around noon, and everything looked fine then."

"Precisely," Spock agreed, "which is why I believe the vandalism took place some time on or around the time at which the computer began experiencing difficulties."

"It could have happened after we returned from lunch." Kirk reasoned.

"Yes," Spock admitted doubtfully, "but all the possible suspects were all on duty at the time before the malfunctions. Therefore, it is logical to assume that someone took the opportunity of their off duty hours, and my absence when I would usually be in my quarters, to violate my quarters and vandalize it with these... adornments."

"Suspects, Spock?" Kirk questioned, "it's not that bad, is it?"

"Captain," Spock said gravely, "entering someone's quarters uninvited, and vandalizing their possessions is a criminal act. I should think you would be anxious to apprehend whomever has promoted such unhealthy activities."

"all right, Spock," Kirk sighed, "I'll come and... um... inspect the damage."

"That would be most appreciated." Spock said before disconnecting the link.

A slow grin spread across the captain's face as he assessed the state of Spock's quarters. Whomever had decorated had certainly done an excellent job. Admiring the scene for a moment, he turned to Spock. "Maybe someone was doing you a favor."

Up went Spock's brow. "By inflicting their holiday customs on me?"

Kirk sat down in the chair Spock offered, trying to appear serious. Spock was obviously unsettled by these events. "How do you propose we get to the bottom of the damaged computer?" Kirk wanted to know.

"I believe by discovering the party involved in the damage to my quarters wil lead us to the answer of the computer's problem." Spock advised.

"Not necessarily," Kirk countered, "maybe you're hoping to wrap up things too easily, Spock."

"Captain, I am not searching for an easy sollution to the problem of the computer, however, I do think these two events are linked in some way."

Kirk sighed. When Spock got an idea lodged in his head, nothing could dissuade him from his course until his hunch had been played to its conclusion. "All right, Spock, how are you going to find out who did this to your quarters?"

"By interrogation." Spock said simply.

Shaking his head, Kirk stood. "well, good luck," he said, "in the meantime, I'm going to get ready for the day. It's nearly morning."

"Yes, captain," he said, "I shall apprise you on both situations."

"Verry good, Spock." Kirk replied just before the doors swished closed behind him.

"Maybe you should stay out of the path of a sleigh and eight tiny reindeer." Spock heard Dr. McCoy say as he approached sick bay.

There was a laugh from a female member of the crew, the hum of a tricorder, then the doctor cautioning the woman to take it easy for a few days. Spock and the previous patient passed through the door simultaneously and the ensign saluted as he entered. The doctor glanced up and seeing Spock he asked, "What brings you here so early, Spock?"

"Doctor," Spock said, ignoring his question, "how is it possible that ensign Myres was injured by a vehicle drawn by deer? I have never heard of that mode of transportation, nor is it possible for her to have been harmed by such means on the Enterprise."

Dr. McCoy had the audacity to laugh. "It was a joke, Spock. But I suppose your vulcan heart can't comprehend such things."

"I do not understand the need for humor when the ensign was injured. What was the nature of her injury."

The doctor waved dismissively. "Oh, just a minor sprain of the ankle when she was in the rec room."

"Instead of employing your dreadful humor, doctor, you would have been well advised to offer her some precautionary warning about being more careful in future so such injuries wouldn't occur."

The doctor flared up at once. "I'll thank you not to tell me how to practice medicine, Spock."

Spock folded himself in to a chair. "Perhaps you require further schooling, as your advice seems faulty."

Clenching his teeth to prevent himself from saying something he would regret, the doctor snapped, "Did you come in here to criticize me, Spock? Or is there something you need?"

"My intention was not to criticize," Spock claimed, "My purpose is to ask you a few questions if it will not interrupt your schedule."

The doctor's eyes glinted hopefully. "If I said it would be interfeering with my schedule, would you leave?"

"Yes." Spock answered.

"Then I'm busy." Dr. McCoy announced firmly.

"Doctor, you have not allowed me to complete my statement. Yes, I would depart, but then find you at a more appropriate time."

Heaving a heavy sigh the doctor threw himself unceremoniously in to a chair across from Spock. "So why am I to be harrassed?"

"Doctor, I do not intend to harrass you," Spock assured, "I simply wish to ask you if you are aware of the damage done to my quarters?"

Dr. McCoy's face clouded with confusion. "No, " he said slowly, "what did happen to your quarters?"

"It was overwhelmed by Christmas decorations." Spock informed him. "Where were you after you completed your duty shift?"

The doctor shot to his feet. "Wait a minute! You think I had something to do with this?"

"I have not arrived at a conclusion," Spock admitted calmly, "I simply wish to verify your whereabouts and your activities in order to make an informed decision."

Slumping in to his seat again, Dr. McCoy scowled. "I was in the rec room with Uhura and Dr. M'Benga if you must know. I wouldn't take the time or go to the trouble of decorating your quarters when you can't even appreciate the reason behind it."

Not thinking this defensive retort needed acknowledgement, Spock didn't comment. If the doctor was telling the truth, if Uhura and MBenga had really been with him in the rec room, then he could rule out their involvement. He trusted MBenga implicitly, and could depend on him for being completely honest with him. "I should like to speak with nurse Chapel." he decided.

"So you're going to interrogate everyone on the ship?" the doctor said sarcastically.

"I will question as many people as necessary until the person or people involved have been apprehended."

"Then what?" McCoy scoffed, "are you going to put them in the brig for trying to get you in to the Christmas spirit?"

"Doctor, I do not find this in the least amusing as you seem to. Please, I would like to discuss this matter with nurse Chapel."

Turning on his heel, McCoy strode in to a medical lab, a minute later returning, nurse Chapel following close behind. "Hello, Spock," she greeted cheerfully, "Dr. McCoy said you wanted to talk with me?"

"Indeed," Spock said, "if we might converse alone?"

He directed a pointed look at the doctor who shrugged and stomped in to his office. Spock once again repeated the story he'd told the doctor and at its end nurse Chapel was smiling. "what a wonderful idea!" she exclaimed jubilantly, "I wish I had thought of it."

"You do?" Spock asked, confused.

"Yes," she said, still beaming, "what a perfect way to get you in to the holiday mood."

"Why do you humans continue to thrust your emotions upon those who do not wish to experience them? It gets rather wearisome. However, I am not proan to moods of any kind, therefore your wish would not have seen fruition. Whomever has done this will be as equally disappointed."

She only shook her head, as though he didn't mean what he said, still favoring him with a smile. "Well, I didn't have anything to do with it," she said pleasantly, "I was here all last night working on reports that if not completed will have to be postponed until after Christmas."

Momentarily jolted from his line of questioning and the unexpected answer she had given, it took a moment to gather his thoughts. "You were here all last night? You didn't leave sick bay at all?"

She shook her head. "No, Spock. you can even ask nurse Lowry. I was here the entire night."

"That will not be necessary." he answered, now just a bit stumped. "Thank you for your time. I shall not detain you further."

It took a quick call to MBenga's quarters to confirm the truthfullness of Dr. McCoy's statement, he had indeed been with M'Benga and Uhura in the rec room until late in to the hours and they had all returned to their quarters quite exhausted. Nurse Chapel had openly admitted that had she thought of the idea, she would have done it. Three of his suspects had been neatly illiminated in less than an hour, but Spock wasn't prepared to concede defeat. He still had other people to question.

He was on his way to the bridge when it happened. The lights flickered, once, twice, then Spock found himself plunged in to darkness. Expecting the backup systems to return power to the lights, he paused in the corridor, but when several seconds passed and the desired results didn't occur, he carefully began making his way to the turbolift, wondering if the lights were out, what other parts of the ship might be without power. Obviously the life support systems hadn't failed, and he could still here the hum of the engines. Stepping in to the turbolift, he heard hurrying steps and before the doors slid closed, a shadowy figure dove inside, colliding with Spock. He staggered against the wall, reaching out quickly, preventing the person from toppling. "I'm so sorry," panted Chekov, "I didn't realize anyone vas in here.

"That is quite all right, ensign," Spock said, "were you harmed?"

For a moment there was silence before Chekov stammered, "Uh... No... no sir. I'm.. all right."

Spock wondered over the sudden nervousness of the ensign. "Are you well, Mr. Chekov?" he inquired politely.

"Yes, sir." Chekov replied, his voice a little more steady.

Spock requested their destination and the turbolift obeyed. Silence descended and Chekov shifted uncomfortably on the opposite side of the lift. Something was definitely wrong with Chekov but given the inky blackness that now enfolded them, and the silence he was maintaining, Spock couldn't fathom just what was troubling him. Thinking it best to pose his questions once they had reached the bridge, or better yet, in a secluded lounge so as not to embarrass him, Spock made no attempt to break the quiet.

The lift suddenly shuddered violently, then plummetted in to a free fall!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Chekov actually felt the blood drain from his face as the lift spiraled out of control. Spock slammed his hand down on the emergency brake, a horrible screeching sound as the backup systems attempted to take on the burden of stopping the motion of a machine weighed down by passengers, and still the lift continued to shimmy down the shaft, although at a much decreased speed. Frantically Chekov flipped open his communicator. "Chekov to de bridge!" he rasped, trying to prevent himself from hyperventalating.

The channel remained silent. In desperation Chekov shook the device but in vain. "Mr. Chekov," came Spock's voice, "panicking will not help our situation. Please attempt to remain calm."

He had seen the vulcan's calm cool logic displayed countless times in difficult situations, but never had Chekov been given an order to remain calm when his first reaction was terror. "But ve can't contact de bridge, Mr. Spock," he protested, "dey don't know ve're trapped in here."

"They will become aware of our predicament soon enough. In the meantime, we must be patient."

That was easier said than done, Chekov thought but kept his opinion to himself.

Uhura had insisted that dress uniforms be worn to the Christmas eve celebration, and since Kirk cut a fine figure in anything he wore it wasn't a request he particularly minded. McCoy on the other hand would grumble as he squeezed himself in to the outfit which he claimed was too uncomfortable and hot. But since it was Uhura organizing the party, her choice of dress had to be observed. Kirk wondered if the carolers who had harolded them during the decorating of the tree would return for an encore performance. Anticipation of the party was growing, a respite from the rigors and perils of space life they all desperately needed. Even nonhuman members of the crew were eagerly awaiting the celebration, their human friends and colleagues outlining the reasons for the joyous occasion. All in all everyone's moralle was high, and when his crew was content, most times so was Kirk. The muted silence of the bridge was shattered by the wailing klaxon of an emergency alarm. Instantly the crew sprang in to action. "What's causing the alarm, Mr. Sulu?" Kirk barked.

Sulu skimmed his fingers across his console. "Unknown, sir. There's nothing on sensors. But wait... Yes, it's turbolift three. It's malfunctioning."

"What!" Kirk shouted, trying to make himself heard over the din, "are there people inside?"

"Confirmed, sir." Sulu reported.

Kirk snapped open his communicator. "Mr. Scott, we have a malfunctioning turbolift."

"Aye, sir," came Scotty's brogue, "I see it on sensors down here. Stoppin' it shouldn't be tae difficult."

"Do it!" Kirk snapped, although he knew an order wasn't necessary.

Scott didn't acknowledge his command, doubtless he had disconnected the link. "Sir," Uhura called from communications, "whomever is in the lift, I can't raise them on the com."

"Cause?" questioned Kirk.

"Our communications have just been jammed."

Inwardly Kirk sighed. "Keep trying to reach them, Uhura."

"Yes, sir."

Chekov's stomach protested the downward motion it was being forced to endure, and it was all he could do to keep from losing his breakfast. Thoughts of humiliating himself in front of the first officer also helped in tamping down his fear, and he'd managed to slow his breathing to normal. His heart still banged uncomfortably, pumping adrenoline through him, making him slightly dizzy, but at least those were symtoms he could deal with in silence. The grating of the emergency brake and Chekov trying to keep some semblance of normalcy over himself, made conversation nearly impossible. Spock stood erect, his eyes betraying none of the anxiety Chekov felt, although a slight tenseness in his jaw gave Chekov some measure of comfort. At least Spock wasn't completely oblivious to the situation as he had at first seemed. Chekov wondered if the lift would reach the bottom of the shaft before anyone became aware of its occupants. At least if they arrived at the bottom of the shaft, at the rate of speed it was moving, their injuries would be minor. This thought bolstered Chekov sufficiently so that he was finally able to think more rationally. An abrupt jolt sent Chekov stumbling across the lift, and even Spock staggered slightly at the unexpected movement before quickly regaining his footing and assisting Chekov to do likewise. It was then Chekov became conscious of the motionless stillness surrounding them. A wide grin burst through his pale features. "Dey have stopped de lift, Mr. Spock!" he shouted jubilantly.

"Evidently, Mr. Chekov." came Spock's dry tone.

Now it was Spock's turn to pull open his communicator. 'spock to captain Kirk."

Silence. "Spock to the bridge, do you read me?"

Still nothing. A cold forboding began seeping in to Chekov. How long would they be confined here until help arrived? Spock must have registered the anxiety in Chekov's face for he said, "If the lift has stopped, most likely it was due to Mr. Scott's ingenuity. Therefore it is reasonable to presume that the crew is aware that someone is aboard the lift. Once again patience must be employed."

Chekov felt like screaming in to the useless communicator until someone responded, but knowing that would only elicit a logical lecture from his commanding officer, he refrained himself. He thought it best to remain silent, as his sentences were jumbled and the last thing he wanted was to ramble on aimlessly. Surprisingly it was Spock who interrupted the silence. "It appears we may be remaining in here for quite some time, Mr. Chekov. I suggest we make use of the inactivity to converse."

"Conwerse?" was all Chekov could think to echo.

"That is what I said," Spock affirmed, "if you would rather continue in silence, I will understand."

Chekov shook his head. "No, sir, maybe talking vill help pass de time."

"That was my thought as well." Spock said.

Chekov frantically searched for something to say, wondering if Spock had yet witnessed the changes to his quarters. If so, he was keeping his protestations quiet. Granted, Spock wasn't proan to outbursts of anger or fits of indignance, but he used other means to display his displeasure, and most of the senior staff was aware of every nuance, every nonexpression that expressed the emotion vulcans claimed to suppress. "May I ask you a question, Mr. Chekov?"

His heart sank. Perhaps he had thought in haste. With no duties to occupy him, and nowhere to escape, Chekov could do nothing more than nod in wordless acceptance. As was his custom, Spock minced no words or cautiously eased in to his question. "Where were you after the completion of your duty shift?"

Braced though he was for the interrogation, it still took Chekov frantic seconds to gather his scattered thoughts. Fabricating an excuse under pressure didn't come easy to him. Sulu had all but promised they wouldn't get caught, and even if they did, they shouldn't own up to the chaos they had caused. The first officer's eyes drilled in to him, and Chekov thought he must be watching every expression, every movement of his body, silently formulating his own theory of the ensign's involvement. There was simply no way to be dishonest with Spock. And even if he was able to conjure up a lie, it didn't sit right with him. If he was dishonest with Spock in this instance, the vulcan might never trust him again. And perhaps after his admission, the result would be the same, but at least in the end, Chekov would prove himself honest. "I vas... I vas... um... in my quarters searching for...ornaments."

If the vulcan noticed his halting words he made no comment on them. "For what purpose?" was the only thing he asked.

Swallowing his nervousness, Chekov spilled out the entire story, how Sulu had wanted to get Spock in to the joy of the Christmas holidays, and how they had decorated his quarters in the hopes of involving him more directly in the cheer they felt. "Ve shouldn't have done it, Mr. Spock," Chekov concluded shame-faced, "ve had no right to sneak uninvited in to your quarters. But if it helps to know dis, ve only had your best interest at heart. Ve vill come and remove de ornaments and tree and replace everything ve rearranged."

There was a brief pause that seemed to drag on interminably before Spock spoke. "That will not be necessary, Mr. Chekov."

Chekov's eyes widened. "It von't be, sir?"

"No," returned Spock, "my quarters were in need of rearrangement. There will be no need to remove the decorations until after the holiday. They are not permenant and will do no lasting damage to my property. Most every crew member is participating in these festivities, therefore it would only seem logical that I make an attempt to conform, at least for the few days of this festival."

Chekov's eyes lit with pleasure. "Dat's great, mr. Spock," he exclaimed, "vait until I tell Sulu!"

"However," Spock cut in, his tone shaded with faint sternness which to Chekov almost sounded like goodnatured scolding, "next time you wish to festoon my quarters with meaningless trinkets, I would prefer you ask my permission first."

"Oh yes, sir." Chekov said hastily.

The quiet returned but was soon interrupted again. "I am assuming it was yourself and Mr. Sulu who caused the malfunctions in the computer in order to cause a diversion so I would be kept from my quarters."

It was not a statement. Looking bewildered, Chekov shook his head. "Ve didn't touch de computers, Mr. Spock. Ve knew such a distraction vould only make you suspicious."

Now it was Spock who was confused. He'd been so certain that whomever had decorated his quarters had also had a hand in the computer's problems. "Ve thought ve vere lucky ven you didn't return to your quarters after your duty shift," Chekov explained, "ve knew you could return at any time, but it vas a risk ve had to take."

Spock's communicator suddenly came to life. "Kirk to Spock."

"Spock here."

"We're having a bit of a problem with the turbolifts, Spock," came the captain's voice, "could you come to the bridge and give us a hand?"

Chekov had to suppress a grin as Spock replied. "Regretfully I cannot, captain. Myself and ensign Chekov are currently confined to the malfunctioning turbolift."

There was a moment of surprised silence. "Are you two all right?" Kirk finally asked.

"Affirmative, captain. However, haste would be desireable."

"Yes, yes, of course," Kirk said, "don't worry, Spock, we'll get you out as soon as possible."

"I am not worried, captain." Spock assured him.

And for once, neither was Chekov. He supposed being stuck in a turbolift with Spock wasn't so bad after all.

Uhura had at last been successful in restoring communications, but to learn of Spock's predicament, trapped in a place where he couldn't be of assistance made the irony of the situation a bit difficult to swallow. "It's just like him to pull something like this." complained McCoy who had appeared on the bridge upon learning of the trouble.

"It's not his fault the turbolift broke down." Uhura pointed out fairly.

McCoy didn't have a ready retort for this so turned the conversation to other matters he could grouch about. "Did you know Spock came in to sick bay this morning and interrogated me, Jim?"

Kirk smiled. "He told me he was going to find out who dolled up his quarters, and I guess he wasted no time."

"He certainly didn't," huffed McCoy, "he even questioned nurse Chapel."

At the helm Sulu shifted uneasily. "Is something wrong, Mr. Sulu?" Kirk asked.

"No, sir." Sulu said quickly.

"Maybe we should leave him trapped in there, Jim." McCoy suggested helpfully.

Kirk didn't miss the amusement that rippled around the bridge at these words but chose to ignore it. "What about poor Chekov?" he asked reasonably, "do you want to keep him in there?"

McCoy scowled. "Didn't think of that." he mumbled.

Kirk's impatience was growing thin, especially when he had nothing to contribute in helping free his officers. McCoy's voice broke in to his reverie. "who would've wasted their time on Spock?" he wanted to know, "I mean, he doesn't care about any kind of celebration, not even Christmas. What was the point in going to all that trouble for something he didn't even appreciate?"

Sulu busied himself with a trivial task at his station but Kirk didn't miss the sudden nervousness that had suddenly translated in to jerky hand movements and shifting gaze. McCoy must have noticed the gesture as well for he asked, "What's the matter with you, Sulu? Are you feeling ill?"

"No." Sulu said in a faint attempt at his usual vibrant tone.

McCoy, who had been a physician long enough to be well versed in dishonest patients who claimed to be fine, strode to Sulu. "Are you sure you're all right?" he demanded suspiciously.

"Yes, quite." Sulu said vehemently.

"I don't know," the doctor mused slowly, "you look like a man who's hiding something."

Now Sulu was positively squirming under the doctor's all-too-knowing gaze. "Is it something to do with Christmas?" Uhura wanted to know.

Kirk could see Sulu felt trapped between honesty and confession and decided to help him along. "Is it something you can tell the rest of us, or is it for someone back home?"

"It's not for anyone on earth, captain," Sulu managed, then taking courage he said in a louder voice, "it's sort of for a crew member."

The doctor did a fair immatation of Spock's raised brow. "Really? Is it a woman? Do tell all."

Sulu laughed. "Sorry, doctor, there are no great loves in my life to shower with gifts."

An expectant hush fell over the bridge as a slight flush infused Sulu's face. "Well?" the doctor prodded when no answer seemed forthcoming.

Sulu drew in a deep breath then burst out, "It's Spock!"

Kirk, Uhura and the doctor exchanged confused looks before Kirk repeated, "Spock?"

"Yes," replied a nervous Sulu, "I...I mean we...uh...decided to try and get Spock in to the Christmas spirit so we..sort of well.sort of put up a few ornaments and...a tree...oh and I think we used some garland as well."

McCoy and Uhura turned shocked expressions on him, which rapidly transformed in to amazed delight. It was Kirk who asked, "Who's "we"?"

This time Sulu didn't hesitate. "Myself and Chekov, sir."

"You two have some nerve!" McCoy said, laughing so hard, tears came to his eyes.

"How were your efforts received, Mr. Sulu?" Kirk asked curiously.

"I don't know, sir," Sulu admitted, "I haven't seen him today."

"Well," McCoy chuckled, "I can tell you, he was quite put out by the whole affair. Good job!"

Seeing he wasn't going to be reprimanded, sulu allowed his smile full rein as laughter was shared by all around the bridge. Kirk's communicator trilled in to the merriment, and hoping it was Scott, Kirk responded. "Captain," came the engineer's triumphant tone, "I've managed tae get the turbolift goin'. They should be comin' tae the bridge as we speak."

The lift doors suddenly parted and a relieved Chekov and unruffled Spock emerged. "they've just arrived, Mr. Scott," Kirk informed him, "good work as usual. Take a well deserved break."

"What?" came Scott's astonished tone, "and leave my wee bairns? I couldna do that, sir."

"I must wonder why Mr. Scott continues to refer to the engines as little children," Spock chimed in, "they are neither sentient nor small."

"Told you we should have kept him in the blasted lift." McCoy muttered.

"Doctor, if isolation is something amenable to you, you may return to sick bay on that same turbolift and I will stop it in the middle of the shaft until you request assistance."

Then without giving the doctor a chance to respond, he turned his stern stare on Sulu. "Uh-oh." mumbled Chekov.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Christmas Eve had at last arrived and Uhura's party was in full swing. Everyone was atired in their finest uniforms, and no one seemed to mind them, not even McCoy grumbled, possibly because there was plenty of refreshments to appease him. Uhura, Rand and Chapel with glasses of eggnog in hand, were congregated around the illuminated Christmas tree, Kirk was trying to convince the carolers to do a repeat performance, and Scott was torturing the entire gathering with a very warped rendition of "We wish You a Merry Christmas" on the bagpipes he claimed had been passed down through generations of his family. "I wish he'd stop that." groaned Sulu, who was giving the enthusiastic scottsman a wide birth.

"It sounds like he is killing a targ." Chekov grimaced.

Casting his eyes about, Sulu knew someone was conspicuously absent. As if reading his mind Chekov said dolefully, "I don't think our plan vorked, Hikaru. He isn't in enough of de Christmas spirit to come to de party."

Sulu had to admit sharp disappointment. He'd been so sure once Spock experienced all the holiday had to offer, he would be agreeable to participating. What more could they have done to get past his vulcan reserve? Uhura had made it a point to invite him to the celebration, so he couldn't use that as an excuse. "At least de computer and all systems have been repaired," commented Chekov, "it vas not fun being crammed in a turbolift for over an hour."

"No, I don't suppose it was," Sulu said distantly, his mind still whirling with possibilities of Spock's choice to separate himself so thoroughly from the rest of the crew.

He was certain they had done all they could to include him in what they considered to be a time for social interaction on a more casual level, but perhaps Spock didn't want to be reached on a personal level. Throughout the celebration he tried to push Spock from his thoughts, but the shadow of his absence lingered. It just wasn't right for one of their own to be so completely alienated. Of course, no one had alienated him, he'd gone to a conscious effort to be alone. "Cheer up," Chekov coaxed, "maybe he's sick and can't make it."

"Spock doesn't get sick." countered Sulu sullenly.

"Vell, maybe he is now." persisted Chekov.

Sulu didn't answer, he was more interested in the person now entering the rec room. "Why Spock, you old tease," the doctor called, "we thought you weren't coming."

There was a hesitancy in Spock as he joined McCoy and Kirk at a nearby table. "I have not been engaged in any practical amusement, doctor."

"We're glad you came, Spock." Kirk added.

"Turning down Uhura's invitation seemed very ungrateful, and would be considered poor behavior."

"So that's the only reason you're here?" demanded the doctor, "so you won't hurt Uhura's feelings?"

Looking nonplussed Spock said, "I have also come for another reason."

They waited but Spock was content to keep them in suspense. "Well?" the doctor grouched irritably, "are you going to make us guess?"

Now even more reticent, Spock turned to Kirk. "Captain, may I make a request of you and the rest of the crew?"

Kirk looked bewildered. "We'll do anything we can, Spock."

The captain stood, raising a hand for silence. It took a few seconds for conversations to die and for Chekov to tap repeatedly on Scott's shoulder to mute his bagpipes before the desired result. "Are ye goin' tae make a speech, captain?" Scott called out.

Kirk shook his head. "Fortunately no."

There was a round of laughter before he continued. "Mr. Spock wishes to make a request. Please give him your full attention."

Several pairs of curious eyes instantly turned on the vulcan who rose with some trepidation and began. "Your dress uniforms are sufficient for this environment."

"He vants to talk about uniforms?" Chekov whispered to Sulu.

"Shhh." Sulu hissed.

"However, if I may, I would like to suggest a more suitable environment for this celebration."

This was the last thing any of them had expected and it was Uhura who spoke first. "A different location, Spock? Where?"

"That will be disclosed after you all have returned to this room wearing winter atire."

Conversation broke out but Spock quickly overrode it. "I realize this is a peculiar request, but if I may be permitted to continue?"

He looked to the captain for approval. Once given Kirk was the first to make his way to the door. "I suggest we follow his orders." he told the rest of the startled crew.

With everyone bundled in coats, scarves, hats, snow boots and gloves, the rec room was extremely stuffy. Once Spock had counted everyone present he gestured to the captain. "If you will all follow me, please?"

In bewilderment, everyone filed in to the corridor after the vulcan. "What do you suppose this is all about, Pavel?" Sulu asked.

"I haven't de faintest idea." Chekov said, "all I know is dat dese clothes are overheating my blood."

They trailed Spock in to a rarely used corridor, stopping as he punched in a security code and the doors slid aside. "If you will all please enter."

Obediently they did so, and Chekov jerked to a stop in complete amazement. Everywhere he looked, whiteness stretched before him. There was a dusting of white on the benches dotted here and there about the room, white powder on several evergreen trees grouped around an ice-covered pond, and white granules drifted softly over the entire scene. In wordless awe, Chekov leaned down to scoop some of the... "Snow?" he breathed in wonderment.

"I believe that is the proper term for it." Spock affirmed.

"Spock." Kirk exclaimed softly, "How? Why?"

Spock actually appeared startled that Kirk had to ask. 'I am attempting to conform with the holiday, Jim."

"You...are?" Kirk asked haltingly.

"Indeed." Spock answered.

"But ye didna have tae go tae all this trouble, Mr. Spock," Scott pointed out, "you could've come tae the party and that would have been fine. Not that I donna wholeheartedly approve of this winter wonderland it's just...so...drastic."

As if Scott hadn't spoken Spock continued his explanation. "On the day the tree was decorated and the group of officers entertained us with Christmas carols, Uhura reminded us of the custom that carolers must have snow in order to fulfil their duty. As they were dressed quite improperly for the heated environment of the rec room, I thought to recreate a portion of the custom so they might enjoy their singing in a more suitable location."

Complete and utter silence filled the snow covered gathering as they stared in wide-eyed astonishment at the first officer. Spock had gone to such great lengths to accomodate a holiday they all loved, and the thoughtfulness was so extraordinary, that no one moved or was able to give voice to their emotions. No one would have guessed this reticent, often times baffling and mysterious man of two worlds, could be capable of such deep sentiment and friendship. "Spock, this is great!" Kirk finally managed, "but how did you do it? How were you able to create snow?"

"I researched several human databases containing holiday customs, so as to be well informed of what the season required. Then I was able to locate several diagrams of old-style earth snow machines. The design was simple enough, and it was not difficult to create a similar device, with more accurate results."

Again silence overwhelmed them before Sulu began to applaud. "Three cheers for Spock!" he cried.

Following his lead, all the crew exploded with cheers and whoops of joy. "This emotional outburst is not necessary." Spock said, but his voice was drowned in the tumult of boisterous cheering.

The carolers, who no longer needed to be prodded in to performing, struck up a lively version of "The Twelve Days of Christmas" before moving on to "Silent Night". Everyone clapped and praised them, giving them a standing ovation, so that they performed one last carol before returning to their friends, glasses of replicated hot chocolate and cider in their hands. spock took the brief lull in activity to inform the captain of his puzzling conclusion with the computer malfunctioning and the link that didn't exist between that event, and the one that had taken place in his quarters. "I am at a loss to explain the malfunctions, or who or what might have caused them," he finally admitted, "nor can I explain how the computer was repaired so easily. It took me less than 7.5 minutes to return everything to the proper parameters."

Kirk heaved a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, Spock, but I believe I have a confession to make."

Spock waited, wondering what the captain had done wrong this time. Most likely it had something to do with breaking another claus of the prime directive. "I rigged the computer, Spock."

Spock was stunned but quickly regained his words almost at once. "You, captain? For what purpose?"

"I overheard Sulu and Chekov discussing their plans to decorate your quarters, and their dilemma of how they might slip in at a time when you weren't there. When I realized they hadn't thought of a diversion to keep you occupied, I decided to take matters in to my own hands."

"You caused the malfunctions, captain?" Spock asked, not particularly to receive confirmation of his statement, but to clarify things in his own mind.

"That's right, Spock. I was only doing my part to get you in to the holiday cheer."

It never crossed Spock's mind to mistrust his captain and friend, and this time was no different. He was aware of Kirk's fondness for including all his officers in activities he thought they might enjoy, but never would Spock have guessed him capable of such subtle acts of sabotage. He said as much to Kirk who only laughed. "Well, I had to do something, didn't I?" he protested in his defense, "nothing short of malfunctioning equipment could keep you from meditation. Just doing my job to ensure all my officers are happy and satisfied."

Spock nodded, deciding to let the matter drop. After all, the mystery had been solved and that made things a lot less complicated.

Spock wasn't certain who threw the first handful of snow, but that was all it took for a snowball fight to get under way. For once Spock didn't point out the illogic of this childish game, but when Kirk hurled a snowball at him, he had no choice but to reciprocate. Taking careful aim, he launched his missile. It struck Kirk right between the eyes, and spluttering in surprise, he wiped a gloved hand across his face, blinking snow from his eyes. "What did you do that for, Spock?"

With all the innocence of an emotionless vulcan, spock replied, "I was only defending myself, Jim."

A gruff laugh heralded McCoy's arrival. "He's got a point there, Jim."

Kirk whirled to face him. "You're agreeing with Spock? Are you feeling all right?"

Realizing what he'd inadvertently done, McCoy scowled then said quickly, "It's the season of goodwill, and even pointy-eared vulcans deserve that much."

"You may keep your goodwill if it makes you feel any better." Spock told him.

It was Sulu's approach that finished the argument. "This is really great, sir." he commented to Spock.

"It is simply a way to keep up the crew's moralle." Spock explained.

"So do you forgive us for decorating your quarters?" Sulu wanted to know.

"There is nothing to forgive, Mr. Sulu," he returned, "you were simply behaving in a manner befitting your human status, and for that I can't fault you."

Sulu exploded with laughter and moved off to find his own snowballs. "You know, Spock," Kirk mused, "I think you're getting the hang of the hollidays."

"I believe your assessment is too optimistic, Jim. However, I will admit it is a rather officient way to illiminate stress for the crew."

"So it is," Kirk chuckled, "so it is."

McCoy's eyes glinted, but not with amusement or annoyance, but with something that looked suspiciously like tears. Not wanting to embarrass the doctor, Spock made no comment, but it appeared the doctor was still feeling enough of his goodwill to continue to freely give it. Looking solemnly at Spock he said in all earnestness, "Merry Christmas, Spock."

taken aback by this direct kindness from the usually grumpy doctor, Spock found himself at a loss for words. He raised his hand in the vulcan salute, then deciding another more appropriate response was in order, he lowered his hand and said with equal solemnity, "Merry Christmas, Dr. McCoy."


End file.
